


C4H66N12O12S2

by saruma_aki



Series: Elements and Chemicals [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Suicide, The Author Regrets Everything, This one is short, Valhalla, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:20:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7396522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C4H66N12O12S2

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is the sixth edition.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support through this whole series! This series would have never happened without your guys, honestly. It was originally supposed to be just a one-shot with Loki leaving Asgard and then people started commenting "make it into a series; this should be a series; I want to see a series" and Elements and Chemicals was born.
> 
> Thank you so much for everything, this has been a lovely experience.
> 
> Now, enjoy the super short part six.
> 
> This is the end.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to their respective owners.
> 
> P.S.
> 
> I read through this one a few times, but it's still unbeta'd. I might have missed something. Sorry.

The walls were a pristine white, as they had always been, but maybe even whiter still as the years went by and maintenance was needed.

If he thought hard enough, he could remember the days way back when, where he had shared his time with his beloved family. Natasha’s laughter filtered through his ears; he could still feel Clint’s warm touch.

The memories of mornings they spent together, lying in bed, curled around each other, later adding Tony, Bruce, and Steve into the mix. He could remember the warmth of their hugs and the softness of their kisses whenever they peppered his forehead or cheeks; could remember the calluses on their hands when they held his or were placed on his shoulders.

He could remember their strength as they stood firmly by him.

Natasha’s soft voice came through his ears, making his heart clench, tears streaming down his cheeks.

_“Loki, we need to go.”_

A stuttered gasp left him, his hands shaking. He could still see the blood staining them.

The war was fought.

Midgard was equipped to be able to protect itself from threats from other realms.

Loki’s job was done.

His life was done.

He could still feel the heat of Steve’s blood as he fought to hold on as Loki tried to heal him, but there was too much going on—too many threats, too much commotion. His magic was depleted, he was straining himself, but he wanted, _needed_ , to save Steve.

He couldn’t save the others, but maybe he could save Steve, if he just pushed a little harder.

_“Don’t, Loki,”_ the super soldier had coughed, breath rattling out of him in a shaky wave. _“Win, get out, help us be ready the next time.”_

He could still feel the warm grip on his wrist, the wave of fear that seized him when it went lax, when the hand slipped from its hold and the shield fell, when the Captain finally lay limp in death.

He remembered Tony’s death just as clearly as all the others, the way he clawed his way out of his suit, literally tearing himself out of it. Loki remembered running over, grabbing the billionaire as he fell, remembered clutching him tightly, eyes wide and fixed on the supposed to be glowing reactor in the man’s chest, but it wasn’t.

There was no blue light.

It was dark.

_“End it…”_

A broken sob tore out of him, his shoulders shaking, hands trembling even more as he curled them into fists, the shudders encasing his arms.

_“Please, Loki, it hurts. I don’t want to go like that.”_

He pressed his eyes shut tighter against the words, against the memories, but they wouldn’t stop now that they had started.

_“Make it quick, make it painless. I trust you.”_

He could still feel the blood gushing over his hand when he drove the dagger into the man’s heart, jerking sobs wracking his frame. He remembered the sight of the brilliant man’s life leaving his eyes, the small, relieved smile curling on his lips.

He remembered his own pulling down into a frown, breaking open in a sob.

He remembered Bruce’s, the most shocking. A giant metal pike straight through the heart, somehow breaking through the Hulk’s tough skin; Loki remembered screaming, feeling the connection between then sever, his heart breaking at the sight of the Hulk slowly shrinking from its massive green form to the smaller form of Bruce, body hanging limply.

The hole in his chest seemed to get bigger despite Loki’s attempts to somehow salvage the man’s life, but he was already gone.

He could still feel the press of metal slicked with crimson as he tried to get Bruce off to no avail.

Then there was Clint, who fell with two of his own arrows through the head, one through each eye; those precious blue gems Loki loved so much. The all seeing gaze permanently blinded, a soul permanently gone.

He remembered the sound of his own scream, loud and broken, primal and basic. He remembered Natasha’s, the sound so heartbroken; it broke Loki’s heart with it.

Clint cried tears of blood in his death; Loki cried with him.

His mind flashed through the images, through the brightness of Clint’s blue eyes, the eyes that could always see what others could not, the eyes that were always so observant, that saw straight through Loki, saw all of his faults, and still accepted him.

He gripped the two daggers in his hands tightly, the daggers forged by the kind Jotun who had shown him forms of magic no one else had, who had been so sweet to him, who had cared for him even when he was dying—another death on Loki’s mind.

Then, there was Natasha’s death.

The mere thought made him cry, a loud wracking sob tearing through him, so powerful it made him double over. He could still feel the slickness of her entrails, the warmth of her blood, and the soft press of her bloody lips to his temple.

_“Wait till yesterday is here, my god,”_ she had whispered and with her life went the remains of Loki’s heart as it shattered into dust

He did as the Captain asked; he helped Midgard prepare for another situation such as that one; the battle well fought and hard won. He carried out Steve wishes.

He did it all while losing himself to the memories, to the sorrow.

Loki was strong, but he had not been prepared for this, had fooled himself into believing they would live longer, that he would have enough time to find a way to extend their lives.

He gripped the daggers tighter, pulling himself up to his feet. Teleporting himself to the Arctic seemed like a fight in and of itself, but this would be his last gift to Midgard, his last sacrifice for his family after they gave their lives to protect their home, he would do the same.

Holding the daggers in both hands, he brought them up, crossing them over his chest, letting the metal bite into the skin of his neck. He had researched for this, had planned this. He would be allowed into Valhalla despite his way of going, he knew that. It was an honorable death despite the means, and then he would be with his family once more.

“One last sacrifice; Midgard is ready now.”

Closing his eyes, he let his head tilt back, let his hands move as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Death is today.”

And, as always, Thor never came, locked away as he was in Asgard, or maybe he had gone to visit Lady Foster, he didn’t know—didn’t want to know. Thor hadn’t been there for the battle, forced to remain in Asgard, or maybe he had stayed willingly. Loki didn’t care to know. He wasn’t important.

His hands were stained with the feeling of his own blood. Memories flashed through his mind, Tony’s eager look whenever he was faced with a new project, Steve’s bright smile, Bruce’s warm touch and the taste of his signature tea, Clint’s bright eyes lighting up when he was gifted a purple sweater, Natasha’s light laughter, her silent strength.

He would be with them now while his magic would thrive throughout all of the realms, providing them all with protection and aid, especially Midgard which was his home, no matter where he was born.

“Yesterday is here.”

The snow was stained red as his body went up in green swirls.

Let the Norns bear witness to his sacrifice; the sacrifice of a boy who gave so much and had what was finally given to him ripped away. Let them bear witness to his strength. Let them bear witness to his demise.

_Till death do us part…_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys again for being with me through this journey. It was a lot of fun (apart from this edition; I've never written character death before, that was hard).
> 
> I love you all so much. Don't hate me too harshly, okay?
> 
> Feel free to find me on Instagram (@saruma_aki); I mainly post fandom posts and I also put up an alert whenever I have a new story, so you guys can stay updated with that, if you'd like.


End file.
